


A Chain of Love

by Taelle



Category: The Silmarillion - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-19
Updated: 2011-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-14 21:44:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/153777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taelle/pseuds/Taelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fingon thinks about Maedhros.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Chain of Love

I thought I would die. No, I knew I would die. It was told once that quendi are immortal, but Finwe died, and then Feanor too. I don't know my destiny and the destiny of my people, but when Maedhros cried out to me and implored me to kill him, I was sure I'd have to do it. And then I would surely die.

Maybe I'm wrong to let the memory rule me. Feanor betrayed us, and my father always said that sons shared father's guilt. I listened and agreed, but then the nights came, and in my dreams Maedhros was again walking besides me in the forests of Valinor, hunting, exploring, and always talking. We used to talk about everything, to agree and disagree thousands of times in one day. And I thought this would be our life forever.

And then things changed. Who brought the changes on is not for me to decide. Morgoth *is* evil, and much of the blame is on him; but Feanor's fiery spirit led him too fast and too far. I don't want to talk about Feanor; he hurt my father and I can't forget about it. I would not talk about him at all, were he not Maedhros's father. No son can be blamed for following his father, and besides that I never could put much blame on Maedhros.

Even that terrible day when we saw the fire far away and understood that we were betrayed, I couldn't hate Maedhros. I only felt a heavy sadness cloak me and dim everything around. It stayed with me all the long and dreadful way across the ice, when my companions started to fall around me. I knew my Maedhros; there was no hate in him, only love. And if his love for his father took things to this point, what could I do? What could I change? I couldn't even hate Feanor, so tired and numb I felt inside. Sometimes I started to think I was the guilty one, because my father and so many of my friends did not feel this call of the Middle-earth and were just following me. And then my thoughts flowed in another direction, and I saw this fated journey as a long chain of hearts calling to hearts: Maedhros and his brothers following Feanor, me following Maedhros, my father following me... How many answered this call to go on a quest started by hate and pride? Were we all doomed?

And then we came to Middle-earth, and the Sun had risen. The past lived under the stars should have gone away, but it didn't. We were still ruled by our memories, loves and hates, hurts and mistakes. Morgoth retreated, but his heritage of betrayal and distrust separated the Noldor more than the water of the lake. I felt that I couldn't live like this. Not that things would stay like this; Morgoth would soon be back, I knew. We kept to our side of the lake, but we heard news anyway. News about Feanor. And Maedhros. That's when I went to Thangorodrim.

The way there was easy. The dark sadness in my heart matched the darkness outside. Nobody stopped me in this vast emptiness. I started to think the place *was* absolutely empty, and despaired of ever finding my friend. That's when I took out the harp that was always with me and started to sing an old song of Valinor, one that we often sang together. The light beautiful tune sounded strange and alien in this place suited for groans and cries of pain. But soon another voice answered mine. Maedhros joined the song, as he used to do in Valinor. But how weak and pained his voice was! I hurried towards the sound, and here he was at last. I saw him on top of that rock, chained by his wrist, and I knew I had no way of going up to him. My journey was in vain. And then he saw me. And cried out to me, asking me to kill him.

I couldn't leave him in such pain, truly I couldn't. I lifted my bow, my heart already staring to break. Afraid that even this one last thing would be beyond my abilities, that my arrow would miss, I cried out to Manwe, imploring him to take pity on the Noldor just once and to direct the flight of my arrow. And then I prepared to shoot.

Manwe heard me. The answer came, just not the one I was expecting. The great eagle swooped down and stopped my hand. Torondor, the Lord of Eagles, came to help me by Manwe's mercy. He took me up to where Maedhros was chained. So close to him, I not only heard the pain in his voice, I saw it in his widely open eyes, in his face, half covered by his matted hair. This sight in turn filled me by pain. I remembered his easy smile and graceful bearing, his eyes lighting everything around him. I knew I had to hurry, because I couldn't bear his pain.

But the magic chains wouldn't give way; it was impossible to break them or to tear them out. I saw despair in Maedhros's face. "Please, kill me, Fingon, I can't stand it anymore!" he cried. But I knew I couldn't. Not now, face to face with him, when he filled all my senses, drew me with his heat and called me with his pain. I don't know whether I could kill him from afar, and now, thanks to Manwe, I will never know, but now I couldn't even think about it. So I did the only thing I could do - I took my dagger and cut off his hand just above the wrist.

I don't know if he felt the pain; I was too tired to think about it. I just caught him in my arms and let Torondor carry us away. I know that when we're back at Mithrim, there will be problems to solve and things to discuss. There's still Morgoth; we won't have any rest till this struggle is resolved one way or another. I remember the oath of Feanor that Maedhros also gave, as I remember everything about him. But there will be time for it. I know I can face the future now, holding Maedhros close to me, chained to him by an invisible chain of love.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in the early 2000, IIRC.


End file.
